


Domestic

by Alliron



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Domestic, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 21:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4802261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliron/pseuds/Alliron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roderich and Gilbert live together happily - but as with all relationships, they have their faults to work out. When things go south, can these two work it out or will they have to go their separate ways?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Gilbert.” Roderich groaned, just barely louder than the alarm.

“Yeah, yeah.” Gilbert sighed, whacking the blaring clock with a fist. “One more snooze.” 

“It’s five-thirty, don’t you need to get to work?” The man turned over and pulled a pillow over his face. “God, it’s early.” 

Gilbert laughed and wrapped an arm around him, pulling his chest to his back and kissing his neck. “It’s not that early. Four-thirty is early, mein liebling,” he said as he tried to push the pillow out of the way.

“Eight is early,” he argued, taking the pillow to bash it against Gilbert’s laughing face. “I need sleep so I can work today, we have a wedding order in.”

Gil groaned. “Scheisse, are these the people will all the damn blue roses?” He ran a hand through his silver hair, groaning. “I guess you’ll be needing my help when I get back then.”

“Ja, ja.” Roderich said, pulling up the covers. “I cut the ribbon last night though, so we won’t be super behind with everything else…”

Gilbert’s mouth twitched slightly into a smile. “Wunderbar.” He planted a kiss onto Roderich’s cheek before he rolled off the mattress and stretched his arms upwards. “Well, you get some beauty sleep then, Captain Von Trapp. Gotta look pretty for those roses.”

Roderich rolled his eyes and swiveled onto his back. “I wish I could get more writing done today, too.”

Gilbert did a sort of dance as he struggled to pull on his pants. “You’ve been working on that for so long, Roddy, maybe you should move on!” He placed a hand on the footboard of the bed to catch his balance. “You’ve got better things to do.”

Roderich raised a bare arm to his eyes, covering them from the light that hadn’t yet been turned on. “No, no, I’ve got to do this, Gilbert. You don’t understand-”

“Don’t start, Roddy, I do understand.” He glanced over at his sleeping boyfriend with a quiet laugh. “Who’s this one for?”

Roderich paused before raising his arm just slightly, revealing his squinting eyes. “Was?”

“I mean who commissioned you for it?” He said, flipping on the lightswitch. 

Roderich audibly groaned, hiding his face with the pillow. “Nobody, I’m just writing it.”

He paused, turning to look at him in disbelief. “You mean you’ve spent the shop’s work hours writing a piece for fun?”

Roderich sighed. “It’s not for fun, it’s in my head and I’ve got to-”

Gilbert interrupted him, walking over and throwing the covers off of him. “So the other day when you asked me to come home from work early so I could make all those bouquets because you had to work on a piece. Nobody was paying for that?”

Roderich hastily pulled the covers back over his eyes. “It’s a musician’s duty to-”

“I don’t give a shit about your musician’s duty, Edelstein, I give plenty of shits about our budget, which I’m sure your cheap ass has noticed is running low.” He marched over to the closet and pulled the nearest button-down off the hanger, fumbling with the sleeves to get it on.

“Excuse you, I’m not the one who buys all the goddamn craft beers-”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, liebe,” he bit back with sarcasm. “But I’m the one who makes the money in this house. I get up and work six to six every day so we can have food on the table-”

“Excuse you again,” Roderich said, propping himself up on his elbows. “I make plenty of money, even outside the shop. I’m one of the most requested composers in Europe, Herr Secretary.”

Gilbert fixed his collar in the mirror hastily, frustratedly re-tying his tie for the third time. He ran a hand through his hair, not bothering to find his comb. “Well, if that’s the case, the local-business-Philharmonics must be reminiscing and playing the old favorites, because the last time you were commissioned was what, six months ago?” He grabbed his shoes and slid them on, not stopping to re-tie them. 

Roderich looked back to the opposite wall, avoiding eye contact. “It’s been slow, yes, but-” 

“Whatever. I don’t have time for this. I’ll be home with dinner, since you can’t be bothered to cook with all your “musician’s duty” you have on your plate.” Gilbert sighed and slammed the bedroom door behind him, his footsteps creaking all the way to the front door.

Roderich’s eyes drifted from the curtains to the comforter, and then to the door. He rubbed his eyes, trying not to feel the tears dripping onto his finger. “Have a nice day at work,” he mumbled. He pulled the sheets over his head and shut his eyes tight, trying not to let the guilt in his chest rise into his throat as he drifted back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The tiny, golden bell above the door rang as someone stepped foot into the store. Roderich peered up from his desk behind the counter and put the bolt of ribbon down. 

“Welcome, can I help you find anything?” He said invitingly as he stood. His facade of a smile immediately broke when he saw that it was Gilbert, not a customer, who had walked in.

Gilbert, however, caught the smile Roderich had dropped and attached it to his own face. “Guten tag, I’m looking for a handsome young man with the most unpleasant demeanor…” He leaned forward over the counter and pecked Roderich’s cheek. “I brought you some cake…” He placed a white paper bag in front of him. 

Roderich took the bag silently and gazed inside, recognizing one of his favorite smells from one of his favorite bakeries. “Thank you… How was work…?”

Gilbert pushed the gate open to go behind the counter and began stripping his coat off. “These Americans living on the bases just request more and more unnecessary transfers…” He hung his coat up properly on the rack in the corner, taking the time to readjust Roderich’s as well. “This man wants me to put in all this paperwork just so he can move from Mannheim to Heidelberg, just so he can be ‘closer to family’ or something. That’s ridiculous. I’ve biked from Mannheim to Heidelberg…” He ended his rant early and shook his head.

“How strange. Perhaps he just hates commuting?” Roderich suggested, returning to his seat and beginning again to cut the ribbon.

Gilbert groaned and sat next to him. “Ugh, I guess so.” He watched his boyfriend for a few moments before leaning forward, placing his hands on his knees. “Listen, about his morning…”

“I’m sorry, I know I made an irresponsible decision, I just have to get this damn music out of my head…” Roderich half-slammed the scissors back down onto the table. He ran a hand through his thick hair and rubbed his eyes from beneath his glasses. “It changes every day, and sometimes I just get something really good and if I don’t write it then it just-”

“Hey, calm down, Mozart.” Gilbert said with a smile. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders in an attempt to be reassuring. “I get it. I was just going to apologize for bitching. I know things haven’t been great financially in the past few months, and I’ll take half the blame if you take the other half.”

Roderich looked him in the eyes and let a small smile break through his lips. “Sounds fine, Gilbert.” 

Gilbert’s smile grew much wider in turn, and he leaned further forward and pressed his lips to Roderich’s for a moment. “Now, eat your expensive cake and keep cutting that ribbon. If you finish these bouquets I’ll run the store while you can get some writing done.”

“Really?” Roderich’s round eyes lit up with excitement like a child opening Christmas presents. “Well, I suppose I can accept that. I’ll even put off the cake.”

\---

Strands of blue ribbon in exactly ten-inch long cuts covered the back counter of the store, This wasn’t exactly what Gilbert wanted to see when he returned from answering emails on the computer in the office. He had been keeping an eye on the door, but also knew that Roderich had gone upstairs half an hour ago to work on his uncommissioned piece.

Gilbert sighed as he opened a creaking drawer and pulled out a paperclip, shaking it off of the other magnetic ones it had attracted. He gathered up all the individual ribbons and bunched them together, carrying them upstairs towards the piano in the hallway with a frown.

“Roderich.”

“Yes?” The man replied, penciling in some notes on the staff paper, his left hand poised on a set of keys. The now turned over white bag was sitting on the table next to the piano, alongside an empty mug and a fast-clicking metronome.

“You were supposed to finish the bouquets.” Gilbert said plainly.

“I did,” Roderich answered. “Should I transpose this to F or save myself the trouble and just keep it in G?” He tapped the pencil along with the metronome, posing a half-rhetorical question.

“I think you should save me some trouble and actually do what you’re supposed to…” Gilbert threw down the set of cut ribbon and grabbed the metronome, turning it over and flipping the “off” switch.

“Excuse me?” Roderich said, putting the pencil down and crossing his arms. “I finished cutting the ribbon, I see you brought evidence to support this claim.” He motioned to the gathered bunch.

Gilbert sighed heavily, putting a hand on top of his head and grabbing a bunch of white hair in his fist. “You were supposed to finish these bouquets. You do realize the wedding planner is coming tomorrow to get these, right?”

“I agreed to cut the ribbon and eat the cake you brought me before working on my writing.” He argued, reaching over for the metronome. Gilbert, however, grabbed his arm before he could switch it back on.

“No, listen, you were supposed to finish the order tonight! And on top of that you just left all this damn ribbon scattered everywhere, it’s a mess on the counter and I’m glad we didn’t have any tall customers today to see over the wall to the mess.” Gilbert picked up the ribbon and shoved it into his boyfriend’s hand. “Now go finish the damn roses.”

“You’re being awfully rude.” Roderich said matter-of-factly, dropping the ribbon and replacing it with the pencil again.

“God, you’re acting like a child today!” Gilbert shouted, stomping downstairs with the ribbon in hand. “A fucking child!”

“Excuse me!” Roderich again exclaimed, standing and scooting the piano bench backwards in the process, quite loudly.

“A child!” Gilbert repeated from downstairs.

Roderich too, abandoned the piano and followed him. “Would a child receive a phone call from Andre Rieu today with a job offer to rejoin his orchestra?” He asked arrogantly. “Not even prodigies are offered full-time positions, so surely I must be at least eighteen years old.”

The taller of the two scoffed. “Roderich, you hated touring with them. You’re too much of a homebody to go anywhere for so long.” He plopped down into the work chair, beginning to pick up each bouquet and tie the ribbons around them as he knew Roderich would not take the initiative. 

Roderich laughed, though it was forced and harsh. “Oh? Then how on earth am I living in Berlin? Unless I’m worse with directions than I usually am, that’s two countries away from my home if we’re taking the usual route.” He watched Gilbert and decided to pick up his own bouquets and start tying his own ribbon.

“Oh, now you’re going to do what you’re supposed to!”

“Why are you suddenly micromanaging my life, Gilbert?” Roderich threw down the bouquet and the ribbon.

“Why won’t you actually do your share of the work?” He fought back.

“Am I not already doing half of the household’s work?” 

“Not even close, unless you’re going to accept the one job offer you’ve had in months. Not that you would even accept such a shitty offer.” Gilbert retorted, continuing to aggressively tie the ribbon, acting as if he wanted to suffocate the blue roses they had complained about endlessly.

“Well, maybe I did!” Roderich said, standing up. “Maybe I actually want to do something full time that makes me happy!”

Gilbert froze, looking up at him. There were a few moments of shared silence before he spoke up again. His face softened. “Are you not happy, Roderich?”

His boyfriend looked down at him and had no reaction. They locked eyes for a while, though their different expressions clashed. Gilbert’s questioning eyes met with Roderich’s flaming ones, and the two could both feel the difference between the gazes. 

After a long while, Roderich eventually unclenched his fists that neither had noticed were clenched before, and turned around. “I’m going to bed.” He marched upstairs, slamming the door behind him.


End file.
